Choosing a table where he could sit with
his back turned towards the door, so as to avoid being seen by
either strangers or possible friends, he took up the Giornale
Romano, and ordered a "mezzo-litro" of the "Genzano" wine, for which
that particular house has long been celebrated. He sat there about
half an hour thus quietly reading,--scarcely hearing the loud voices
and louder laughter of the men who came and went around him, when
suddenly the name "Sylvie Hermenstein" caught his ear. It was spoken
carelessly and accompanied with a laugh. Quietly laying down his
newspaper, he sat very still in his chair, keeping his back turned
to the groups of wine drinkers who were gathering in large numbers
as the evening advanced, and listened.
"The most delicious little bonbon in the whole box! Jolie a
craquer!" said a man's voice.
"Chocolat fondant! Garantie tres pure!" cried another, his words
being followed by a shout of laughter.
Fontenelle gripped the arm of his chair, and held himself rigid, but
ready to spring.
"The Church always knows where to find the prettiest women," said
the first man who had spoken, "from the Santissima Madonna
downwards! What would become of the Pope if it were not for the
women!"
"Bah! The Pope is only one man, but what would become of all the
Monsignori?" asked a voice different to the rest in mellowness and
deep quality, but with a touch of insolent mockery in its tone.
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